Alabama Slammer
by twitchytwain
Summary: "The first rule of the Damon Salvatore Hate Club is that you do not fall in love with Damon Salvatore" Ball-buster and New Yorker, Bonnie gets more than she bargained for when she shadows cage fighter Damon to do a story about his life and coming fight. She's bitten off more than she can chew this time and her friends Matt and Caroline can attest to that. Pairings:Bamon, Klaroline
1. Chapter 1

"What is it about bad boys?" Bonnie downed the shot of whisky before thumping the glass down on the long maple bartop "they do absolutely nothing for me" she said chasing the shot down with a pitcher of cold beer.

"You sure about that?" Matt raised a flaxen eyebrow beckoning the bartender for another boilermaker.

"**Abso-fucking-lutely**" she took another swig of beer "are you trying to liquor me up?"

"Would it help?"

"Hell no" she chuckled snatching his untouched shot smiling like a Cheshire cat.

The guitar riffs behind them sent a surge of rebellion through her rattling bones, creeping into her nerves like a chemical fire. She loved the dive bar on Thursdays. She loved its dank smell, its cloying sweat and the stagnant smoke. To her New York dive bars were like a mystical Nirvana.

"Cheers to me, the birthday girl!" she slurred raising her glass and slumping up against Matt. His hide jacket felt soft against her wet cheek, soft and comforting.

"Here Here!" he soothed, one hand wrapped around her shoulder and the other wound around his beer.

"How do I look?" she suddenly asked whirling him around in his bar stool to face her.

"Like a raccoon?"

"Oh Matt, my very best friend Matt"

"I think that title belongs to Caroline"

"Caroline _schmelorine_," she spat scrunching her eyebrows "Where the heck is she? "

"I'm sure she's running late"

"No, "Bonnie slurred slipping off her black leather jacket "she doesn't care Matt"

"It's just you and me kid" she chuckled gently tapping his jaw with her knuckles "I love you Matt" she winked grinning up at him.

"I love you too," he winked back, brushing away her stinging tears with his calloused thumb. Bonnie's hand sprang up and held his hand in place, his thumb still trailing her warm cheek.

"You're a good guy Matt, "she said softly "good guys are far and few in between"

"Fat load of good it does me" he said shaking his head and going back to his drink. Something pulled in her belly like an eight ton truck revving its breaks straight to her gut and she pulled him. Bonnie cupped the back of his neck with both hands, her fingers tangled in his short blond hair, nails digging at the nape of his neck and then she kissed him. She felt him hesitate at first, his lips closed around her coiling breath and then something in Matt bucked and his mouth opened, his hot tongue tangling with hers. Their kiss was hungry, needy, wanting and desperate. It was as if he alone could cure what ached in her and she alone could fill what needed to be filled within him.

Bonnie stopped first, pulling back to take another swig of beer.

"How about another shot? "She asked through the heavy arcing wails of an electric guitar.

#

_**This is wrong on so many levels**_, Bonnie thought as Matt's tongue swirled inside her mouth teasing every nerve in her body till she was just a thing gyrating and jiving in the backseat of the yellow taxi cab speeding down Brooklyn bridge.

"Jefferson Avenue, "she announced to the cabbie between their urgent gulps.

"Will that be one stop?" there was a cheekiness in his voice that didn't go unnoticed but that it wasn't his tone that rattled her, it was the idea. The idea that she, Bonnie Bennett on the day that she had lost her promotion to that rotten strumpet Katerina Petrova would succumb to play naked rumba with her best friend.

She wanted to stop, she really did. Even as his hands cupped her ass like a foreign land he was discovering and she scraped her nails along his the back of his neck, she wanted to stop.

But she couldn't. They couldn't.

Matt's mouth was suddenly like some euphoria she had been seeking to medicate her.

They could cure each other.

"Are you drunk?" Matt moaned around her neck.

"Are you?"

"Bonnie…"

She knew where he was going with it. She just wouldn't lead him there.

""We should stop" he pleaded, his hands sliding up her thighs.

"We could"

"This is…you're not thinking"

"Shhh…Matt, don't think, "she persisted" don't think" she cupped his blushing face in her hands, tipping her head and slanting her lips over his warm mouth.

"Caroline" he rasped breaking her spell.

He'd said the magic word, Bonnie thought pulling back feeling the dizzy spell of whisky shots washing over her.

"Caroline "she repeated as the funhouse mirror images in her head came back into focus. Matt Donavan had been in love with Caroline, Bonnie's roommate ever since she'd known him and she didn't want to destroy that for him. She didn't want to destroy the fantasy that he had built up in his head about a happily ever after with Caroline. She wasn't that girl. She didn't steal people's dreams and make them her own.

"You're a good guy Matt" she simply said tapping his ruddy cheek with her hand.

"Jefferson Avenue," she called to the cabbie again falling back into the cold leather seats "Two stops." She added watching the dazzling lights from Brooklyn as they drove home.


	2. Chapter 2

Three-day-old beer sweat stench, crusty jockstraps and the damp floors of a mixed martial art's locker-room gymnasium. This was home for Bonnie and a part of her loved it, couldn't imagine anything better than conducting an interview with a fighter among the fumes of old sodden socks and coconut hair gels. The other part had been looking forward to getting the carte blanche column Elijah; her boss had given to Petrova. A nice air conditioned office overlooking the Hudson River would have been a pleasant change from the tedious murk of bulging muscles rippling under blurred fluorescent lights.

"Tuck it in boys, "she yelled guzzling her Dean & Deluca coffee" lady walking. Lady walking"

She weaved her way around the sodden bunch of bristly men with tatted bodies and swelling muscles grunting like pigs in a pen.

"What lady?" Jeremy Gilbert yelled back wrapping his bruised up knuckles with a tattered bandage. He was a former jarhead she'd dabbled with shortly after starting her job with the CFA magazine.

"Still sore 'cause I dropped your ass?" Bonnie cocked her head, smiling sweetly at him.

"Still sore about the promotion?" his brown eyes shimmered as he grinned in retaliation "I heard Katerina got the job"

"Instead of meddling around the rumor mill," she closed the gap between them jabbing his greasy chest with her index finger "focus on that weak chin of yours, Gilbert"

"I hear you've got a new flower in your garden, "she said, eyes darting around the steamy room" a nice little blushing rose"

"Now, which one of you boys is Salvatore?" she asked gulping down the last of her coffee.

"That'd be him" Jeremy gestured to the corner of the locker-room with his chin before slithering into his black hoodie.

Bonnie's eyes shot to the corner, to the bulk of lean muscles undulating under a smooth golden skin. Her eyes did a languorous crawl from the sweat speckled pectoral muscles on his hard chest to the taut tendons of his abdomen. His fitted black jeans sagged all the way down to his pelvic muscle and something in her swelled as a strange heat crawled into her cheeks.

"Are you Salvatore?" she asked clearing her throat.

"Who wants to know?" he drawled nonchalantly packing in his boxing gloves, not bothering to look up at her. The affected Southern accent caught her off guard. It didn't match with his obvious Italian heritage.

"I'm Bonnie Bennett" she said shoving her hand out to him "I'm with the CFA magazine"

"The what?" he looked up, blue blue eyes dazzling like a damn cerulean Greek sea as he raked a hand through his damp raven hair.

"Cage fighter Association magazine"

"Oh, never heard of it" he smirked as his eyes travelled the length of her body, lingering on her sweat soaked cleavage. His eyes sprang up at her again, lips unfurling into a broad grin.

"I believe we have a twelve o'clock" she said trying to ignore the fact that he was peeling her clothes off with his tormenting eyes, attempting to ignore the fact that she kind of liked it.

"No can do mam." his voice was a languid drawl as she watched the shrug roll off his broad shoulders.

"No? We had an appointment. I called your agent last week and-"

"I fired my agent this week" he said casually slipping into his white t-shirt.

"So you won't talk to me"

Great another Neanderthal whose about to get a rude awakening, Bonnie thought rolling her eyes. She was drained and hung over from Matt's beer soaked mouth and a disheveled cage fighter giving her hell at eleven in the morning was the last thing she needed. She took in a deep breath to steady herself.

"I don't do interviews but lunch, "he winked" now, that I can do"

"Listen Salvatore, you need to be a professional if you want to make it in this industry and refusing interviews is not-"

"Are we done?"

"Actually no, I'm not done-"she shook her head, eyes narrowed.

"'Cause I am famished and if you don't want…what's your name again?"

"Bonnie. B.O.N.N.I.E Bonnie" she said it slowly so that she could get all the vowels out of her mouth.

"Bonnie, I'm heading out for lunch" he announced throwing his weathered leather rucksack over his shoulder "you comin?"


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't Christmas season yet but the place was draped with Christmas lights. It was a dingy pit somewhere in Hells' kitchen and Bonnie called his bluff before they sat down at the rickety oak bar with broken down seats.

He was used to girls in pink cardigans and fresh pearls who shocked easily. The place probably got him in their white cotton panties faster than you could say three Hail Mary's. The strange allure of the rugged bad boy did strange things to good girls.

**Not this Disney Princess.**

"Make that tequila shot and a boilermaker, "she told the hefty barman after Damon ordered her a pink cosmopolitan.

"What, no fancy pants cocktails?" he teased waggling his pronounced eyebrows.

"And give my friend here a Shirley Temple" Bonnie motioned with her head to Damon winking at the bartender.

"Bottoms up," she tipped her shot glass against his beer bottle before throwing her head back and downing the tequila. She probably shouldn't be drinking, she thought but Elijah had been giving her such grief about her assignments that if she didn't pull an ace up her sleeve soon, she could kiss the job at the magazine goodbye. This interview with Salvatore was her last shot at redemption, last chance for that corner office spot she was vying for with Petrova.

"How about it?' Damon jerked his head to the king sized pool table sitting by the mangy toilet with a big flashing neon sign above it.

"What's the wager?" she asked taking his cue and following him up the small stairs to the pool table. The watering hole was scattered with old comfortable regulars with their warm beer in Styrofoam cups watching televised brawls on outdated monitors.

"How about scotch at my place. Tonight?"

"How about no?"

"So have you seen any of my bouts?" Damon grinned, his eyes doing that lazy crawl thing again, roaming her body like she was a damn lamb at the slaughter. He waited handing her a pool stick.

"No, but I know your stats, "she glanced up at him as she set the drink down beside her on the pool table.

"At seventeen you made your pro mixed martial arts debut," she licked her lips studying the balls first for that sweet shot." And eight years later here you are"

"Middle weight champion with a second round knockout, three title defenses won by three more knockouts. Previous eleven wins. All knock outs, "Bonnie leaned over the green felt table skillfully, she could feel his eyes burning holes into her ass as she set up her first shot.

"Enjoying the view?" she glanced back, mouth curling in one corner.

"I've seen worse" he smiled clearing his throat before taking a long gulp of beer.

Bonnie sent the balls spinning in different directions, three of them going into pockets. She went in for another shot again, slamming the cue hard against the white ball, missing the pocket as her targeted red ball rolled back to the center of the table.

"I guess you don't like too much floor grappling" she said watching him take his careful turn at the table and relishing the sight of his sweet tight ass in rugged denim.

"How does a small town boy from Alabama get into cage fighting?" she leaned against the broken juke box sizing him up.

"No interview questions" he winked quickly glancing up at her from his angled shot.

"Then why am I here Salvatore?" Bonnie chewed the inside of her cheek digging her heels into the stained red carpet.

"You're here to look pretty and drink beer" he shrugged brushing past her chasing the perfect shot.

That perfect storm.

Bonnie felt something knot in the pit of her belly, a creeping rage as she gripped the pool cue tighter.

**Play nice Bonnie. **

"I'm guessing that your agent was your personality 'cause right now you're just an ass and a hole and neither one look too pretty from where I'm sitting" she finally responded watching him.

Damon took a moment before straightening up and glaring at her through long dark eyelashes. The nerves on his hard jaw balked and then his lips twitched into an unaffected simper as his blue eyes sent electric riffs through her system.

"Here, "she spat taking out a muddy dollar from her purse" next one's on me"

She could still feel those eyes of his follow her all the way down to the creaking double doors of the dive as she walked out.


	4. Chapter 4

Caroline's Gibson acoustic guitar lay on the rumpled couch and on the floor next to it, a pair of army boots that were entirely too big to belong to her. She was back and she had company, Bonnie thought meandering around the tousled apartment before heading to the kitchen for a toasted sour cream bagel. The place was quiet save for some Jimi Hendrix playing softly in Caroline's bedroom. She called it her mood music. She always needed mood music prior to getting laid.

**At least Caroline was getting laid. **

Bonnie was about to rampage the refrigerator for that odd can of beer when Caroline barged into the kitchen buttoning up an oversized plaid shirt that barely skimmed her thighs.

"Happy belated birthday!" She screamed coming in for a bear hug that nearly toppled Bonnie.

"Here, "Caroline said handing her a Bob Dylan CD wrapped with a giant eggshell bow, one of those Tiffany numbers.

"Thanks," Bonnie smiled giving her a quick squeeze.

"Hey mate "

Bonnie looked up as the owner of the crusty voice slung his gangly arm around Caroline, a big grin stapled on his face.

"Hey yourself" she replied running her eyes along the taut lines of his pale abdomen.

"I hear it's your birthday," he said twisting his rucked nipples "we got you some bubbly" he gestured to the big jaunty bottle on top of the fridge.

"Terrific" Bonnie feigned a big grin, her eyes darting to Caroline and back to the tall Australian hunk of meat standing in the middle of their kitchen.

"This is Klaus, "Caroline announced as her arms snaked around his lean torso "we have uhm…band practice together"

"Caroline's my muse, she's helping me with my craft" Klaus added before slipping his crafty tongue into Caroline's crafty ear.

"Will there me be any more band practice this afternoon?" Bonnie asked wondering if she would need a strong cup of coffee and a quick shower before heading back to the office. She certainly wouldn't be sticking around their cold brownstone apartment if Caroline was going to be making monkey noises over some Jimi Hendrix in the room right next to hers.

"Nah, we heading out" he said pulling the blonde closer to him before ushering her out of the tiny kitchen.

"What did you get up to last night?" Caroline yelled as Klaus dragged her back to the bedroom.

"Hung out with Matt" she called getting back to her burnt bagels. They were useless now, completely inedible. Bonnie groaned with her lips pressed in a tense line as Hendrix's wails grew louder in the couple's bedroom. Her mobile phone vibrated on the table.

Matt.

#

"Flowers?" Bonnie cocked an eyebrow as she looked at Matt standing in the doorway "things are not going to get awkward between us, are they?"

"It's just a peace offering" he shrugged with a glint in his eyes. That flicker got her; she swallowed hard and looked back down at the monstrosity of a bouquet.

"Courtside seasons tickets to the Nicks would've been a nice peace offering" she grinned taking the flowers from him. He looked clean and freshly shaven in a black tuxedo that framed him beautifully. Bonnie let her eyes wander over his form for a moment recalling how that same solid form had felt a night ago pressed against her in a hot and steamy taxi cab.

"You're looking good Mattie," she teased sensing the flush in his cheeks spread to his ears.

"Is that what you're wearing?" he quipped ruffling his sandy blond hair with one hand. Bonnie took a step back and allowed his blue-grey eyes to track their way through her body, settling on her battered leather jacket.

"Hi, have we met?" her eyes widened, hands on her hips as she grinned from ear to ear.

"It's a black tie engagement party and a dress wouldn't hurt"

"Are you trying to get me naked Matt Donovan?"

"Ok, I call a truce" his cheeks burned as he chuckled throwing up his hands.

"Is Caroline around?"

She heard the slight hitch in his breath as he followed her into the kitchen.

"No." Bonnie replied watching his shoulder's slouch back down.

"Are you nervous?" she changed the subject throwing him a can of ice cold beer.

"A little…maybe, "he said quietly with a shrug "I don't know" he looked down tracing his thumb around the rim of the perspiring can, the same thumb he'd run along her wet cheek. Bonnie caught her breath, shook her head and focused back on their discussion.

"It's been year and she was bound to move on" he finally declared referring to his former flame who was getting married in a few months.

"Yeah, just not with the guy you share a commentator's box with "Bonnie said leading him back to the lounge to grab her purse.

#


End file.
